chrysocome

I feel it beginning again, and all I can do is wait. Its song, its all encompassing haunting song, streaming into me, riding along all my veins and neurons until it reaches my pounding heart. It can't be denied, no matter how hard I clamp my hands around my ears, and how loud I scream; every note seems to sweep through my being uninterrupted, unchanging, undeniable. So familiar, but more painful every time. I have heard this song all of my life, yet these days they seem more frequent, more intense, every note seems to arc throughout my entire body, paralysing every muscle, leaving me helpless, utterly helpless. The song wraps itself around my

I feel it beginning again, and all I can do is wait. Its song, its all encompassing haunting song, streaming into me, riding along all my veins and neurons until it reaches my pounding heart. It can't be denied, no matter how hard I clamp my hands around my ears, and how loud I scream; every note seems to sweep through my being uninterrupted, unchanging, undeniable. So familiar, but more painful every time. I have heard this song all of my life, yet these days they seem more frequent, more intense, every note seems to arc throughout my entire body, paralysing every muscle, leaving me helpless, utterly helpless. The song wraps itself around my